


Good People go to Hell

by Real_Life_Eeyore



Series: The Howling Commandos and Captain America [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Bucky after he fell, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 18:45:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19774174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Real_Life_Eeyore/pseuds/Real_Life_Eeyore
Summary: The first thing that his body registers is pain. It’s not from any one place. Instead it radiates throughout his body, traveling from his brain to his spine, and all the way down to the tips of his toes. He’s been beaten to a pulp, shot, cut, had fire injected into his veins but nothing compared to the white hot agony that now encompassed his entire world.Sergeant Barnes without the Howling Commandos





	Good People go to Hell

**Author's Note:**

> I got this out way earlier then I expected and I hope you guys like it. Also thanks so much to everyone who has commented on my other posts. This was supposed to be just one quick little fic and you guys encouraged me to write three more.

The first thing that his whole body registers is pain. It’s not from any one place. Instead it radiates throughout his body, traveling from his brain to his spine, and all the way down to the tips of his toes. He’s been beaten to a pulp, shot, cut, had fire injected into his veins but nothing compared to the white hot agony that now encompassed his entire world.

He opens his mouth to let out a scream but he can’t tell if he was actually making any noise. The only thing he can hear is the ringing in his ears.

Bucky doesn’t remember passing out but he must’ve because when he comes to the pain isn’t as bad. The agony that once drowned out his other senses has dulled, at least to the point where he can get his bearings.

The grey sky is cut by tree branches. Broken tree limbs lay in a spiral around him. He fell, he fell off the train and doesn't know where he's landed. He remembers Steve's hand grasping at open air. Wherever he is it’s cold, so so cold. The sound of his teeth chattering has joined the ringing in his ears. His left leg is bent under him in a way that he knows is wrong. 

Focas he tells himself when the edges of his vision started blurring. A light dusting of snow covers him. When he tries to brush it off him the only thing he gets his pain. It shoots through his body and this time he know he screamed.

Instinct yells at him to get up, to move to do anything, but lay there like a sitting duck. Panic and adrenaline take over as his is still uncooperative limbs begs him to stop. If he can get on his stomach he can crawl, that's at least better than his current position. He tries to use his arms to turn himself but he’s only greeted with a sudden stab of pain.

His left arm hurts so bad he’s sure that it’s broken. When Bucky raises it up to try and examine it there’s nothing there. It’s just a bloody mess with torn pieces of skin hanging where his elbow should be. The white gleam of shattered bone almost blends in with the snow. The end of the bone is completely exposed and completely shattered. It’s cracked open to reveal the marrow on the inside.

“No...” his voice his weak. He closes his eyes and then opens them again. Maybe this is all some sick nightmare or a blood loss induced hallucination because there is a lot of blood. It’s staining the ground, turning the snow around him into some sort of morbid crimson slurry.

A cough erupts from his throat and god damn it that hurt. There’s blood on his lips that wasn’t there before. 

“Please” he begs to no one in particular “make it stop”. Maybe God is laughing at him. It hurts so fucking much and he’s so fucking scared. He wants his mom to hold him, to tell him that it’s alright. He craves her warm embrace; anything to shield him from the biting wind. “Mom” he sobs, trying to trick himself into thinking that she’ll answer. 

On the day of his deployment his mother had held him close and said “Come home, you promise me you’ll come.” He promised and he was determined to keep that promise but right now he just wanted to be held. 

Tears froze on his cheeks and he tried to stop his sobs because everytime he did his chest would get tight and shots of pain would go up through his ribs.  
Steve. Steve will come for him. Bucky's sluggish mind suddenly starts racing at the prospect of rescue. 

Steve will come find him. He’ll pull Bucky into his arms and tell him that it’ll be alright. He’ll hold Bucky and wrap him up in his jacket. The next time that Bucky sees Steve he’ll kiss him. He’ll kiss him right on the lips and not give a shit as to who's watching. 

The rest of his team will come to rescue him too. Moritia will probably scream at everyone while Falsworth scolds him. Gabe will make sure that he survives and Dernier is gonna just keep spouting french that Bucky doesn’t understand but he always gets the general idea. Dugans gonna yell at him for being a dumbass but Bucky knows how much he cares.

Steve has come for Bucky before, waltzed straight through enemy territory for him. He did that on the prayer that Bucky was alive. He has to believe that Steve will do it again for him.

"Till the end of the line”Bucky mumbles to himself. 

Maybe this is the end of the line. Maybe he has already died and gone down to hell. Bucky never pictured hell this cold. No bucky scolds himself for thinking that. Someone had once told him that if he thinks that he’s gonna die then he will die and Bucky is fully intent on living. “Steves gonna save me” he whispers and tries for a smile. 

The prospect of rescue keeps him warm as he drifts off into unconsciousness. 

When he wakes up something is different. For one thing, even though the sky is darker it’s not as cold. The ringing in his ears is still present but the sound of his chattering teeth has gone. 

When he wakes up again it’s as if his limbs have turned to lead. His mind is foggy and his vision is going in and out. In the distance he can just barely make out a group of approaching figures. 

“Knew you’d come” he slurs to himself. 

As the approach he realizes that it’s not the Howling Commandos. His mind may be cloudy but he knows that these are not his friends. For one thing they take their sweet time walking over to him and they speak loudly in a language that's not french and definitely not english. 

A heavy brown boot appears next to face, breaking the crust over the snow. They’re standing over him and and talking to each other. Suddenly the boot next to his face moves and comes hurtling towards him.

He’s fading in and out of consciousness but he can feel himself being dragged by his jacket. His broken body is dragged over a rock and he can’t even scream, all he does it let out a pathetic little whimper.

They stop near a few trees and something in Bucky’s mind clicks. The fur hats combined with the language-they’re Russian. Weren’t they supposed to be on friendly terms with the Russians? Maybe he’s just confused.

One of the men who were dragging him squats next to Bucky. He’s smoking a large cigar and when he smiles he reveals the gaps from knocked out teeth. The man takes a long smoke, exhales, then blows it into Bucky’s face. Bucky gags and coughs on the thick black air while the man just laughs.

They talk some more and the next thing that Bucky knows they have their hands on him. He fights but they just ignore his weak struggles and continue to strip him. They tug off his boots, his jacket, his shirt, even his pants and underwear. When they have to maneuver his left leg to take of his pants Bucky screams. He swears he hears something snap but the men just keep laughing.

The snow on his bare skin should feel freezing but instead a burning sensation overtakes him. This is it, he thinks to himself. This is how he dies.

The one who was smoking walks a few feet away and squats down in front of him again. The man produces a metal canteen from the inside of his jacket and waves it in front of him. It’s like taunting a chained up dog with a piece of bacon.

Doesn’t this man understand that he can’t move? It hurts so bad to crawl but god he’s so fucking thirsty. 

Bucky throws his right arm out in front of him and he grabs at the ground. His fingers dig into the frozen dirt. His mangled left arm drags uselessly behind him. It leaves a trail of blood in the snow. Using his right arm and leg he manages to drag himself what must only be a few inches. He wants to cry.

He does cries.

“Drink” the man taunts as he continues to wave the canteen in front of Bucky. The man's voice is heavily accented and Bucky can’t make out what he says next. Bucky shakes his head and lets it fall down into the snow in defeat. Sobs wrack his body and he’s still so thirsty. He laps at the snow in front of him like a dog. One of the men beside him lets out a loud belly laugh but the man with the canteen isn’t as amused by Bucky’s desperation.

The man walks over to Bucky and plants a kick right on his battered chest that knocks the breath out of him. Bucky starts coughing and he can’t stop, no matter how much it makes his ribs hurt. With each barking cough more blood appears on the snow in front of him.

A kick to his back sends pain up and down his spine. The rest of the men join in on the beating. If he could catch his breath Bucky might’ve joked that he knew a Hydra guard who shared their affinity for beatings.

Bucky doesn’t see it but he certainly feels one of them stomp down on his left leg. There’s a loud crack and Bucky screams. His mouth tastes like blood.

They stop kicking and for a second Bucky thinks that they’re about to end his torture but he’s not that lucking. Instead one takes their hand and grabs between his legs.

He fights it, he fights as hard as he can but his damaged body puts up a poor fight and they just pin his limbs down. 

When they’re done using him Bucky vomits down the side of his face and pools in the snow. Tears are frozen to his face. The man who was smoking has put out his cigar on Bucky’s body. He knows where it hurts the worst.

For the first time in a long time Bucky prays. He prays that Steve is close by and that he’ll rescue him. He prays that his captors will take mercy and just shoot him dead. He prays that his body will finally give up and then he’ll welcome death with open arms.


End file.
